


Mending Hearts

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: For Elena - I took a little liberty with your prompt but I hope you like it :)Noah calls Barba to ask him to come home after Benson suffers a minor heart attack.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88
Collections: Barson Secret Santa 2020





	Mending Hearts

Barba was naked and scratching lightly at his chest, his skin still glistening with drying sweat, when he walked into the bathroom. “Hey, you mind if I—” He stopped at the sight of Benson sitting on the edge of the bathtub in her underwear, leaned toward the toilet with one hand on the seat to brace herself. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, but the gesture was unnecessary. Her face was pale, almost gray, and she seemed to be having difficulty drawing a deep breath. Barba entered the room and sank into a crouch in front of her, reaching up to lay a palm against her forehead.

“Are you sick? In pain?”

“Something’s wrong,” she whispered, and his heart clenched in his chest. “I think…” She cleared her throat carefully; she was doing her best not to panic him, which only made his panic flare. “I think I need to go to the hospital.”

“Okay, here, let me help you up,” he said, taking her elbow and putting his other hand on her waist.

She shook her head again, her hair falling around her face. “I don’t think I can stand. I feel…” She swallowed. “I think you should call for an ambulance.”

“Jesus—okay. Don’t move, I’ll grab my phone.” His knees popped as he rose quickly to his feet and turned toward the bedroom.

“I need clothes.”

He snatched his briefs off the floor and yanked them on, hopping on one foot and then the other and almost tumbling onto his face as he headed for the nightstand where he’d left his phone. He wasn’t sure where hers was.

He grabbed sweatpants and a t-shirt from her dresser and was back in the bathroom in a matter of moments. “Is this alright?” 

She barely glanced at the clothes. “It’s fine. Here, I’ll call,” she said, holding out her hand. Her fingers trembled in the air, but she held onto his phone when he handed it over and she managed to dial 911. “Can you unlock the door?”

He rushed out to obey without questioning it, his bare feet slapping the wood floor. He could hear her talking as he unlocked and cracked the door open, but he didn’t like letting her out of his sight. He hurried back into the bathroom and stood in his underwear, his anxiety only growing as he listened to her describing her symptoms to dispatch. After a few moments, realizing he wasn’t doing anything productive, he dropped back into a crouch and slipped the sweats over her feet and up her legs. 

Still talking on the phone, she looped her free arm around his shoulders and he helped her stand partway, tugging the pants the rest of the way up before helping her back down to the edge of the tub. 

He got up and filled a cup with water, then grabbed the aspirin from the medicine cabinet and shook two into his palm. He turned in time to see her lowering the cell to peer at the screen.

“Your phone died,” she said. 

“Shit. Sorry, are they coming?”

“Yes.” She swallowed the offered aspirin and half the water without comment before adding, “I was supposed to stay on the line but they’ll be on their way.”

“I’ll grab yours, we can call back. Here,” he said, getting her shirt and quickly helping her into it. “Can I help you into the living room?”

She shook her head and he tried not to let his fear overwhelm him. 

“Where’s your phone?”

“Dresser.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“You need to leave before they get here.”

“What? There’s no way in hell—”

“You’re not even supposed to be in the city. You want everyone to know you flew in for a midday booty call?”

He shot her a dirty look. “While I appreciate your ability to make jokes at a time like this—”

“I’m serious. No one can know this happened, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“If you’re that worried about people finding out you and I are—”

“I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“Okay, shelving that conversation,” Barba said with a wave of his hand. “But I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Leave the door open for the paramedics and I’ll call you from the hospital as soon as I know something.”

“Liv.”

“Please, Rafa.”

He made a sound of frustration and scrubbed his hands over his face. “God damn it. Fine, but if you—” He shook his head and lowered his chin, holding her stare. “You need to be okay.”

“If I die you’ll never forgive me?” Her small attempt at a joke fell flat; her face was too pale, her voice too weak, her eyes too full of fear. 

“Exactly. And I have other things to say but they’re going to wait until later. Let me grab your phone and then you tell me what you need me to do.”

“I love you, Rafael.”

He swallowed hard. “Don’t you dare start that right now,” he said. He started to turn away and stopped, spinning back around and leaning down to lay a hand against her cheek. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, too.”

He hurried out of the room and fetched her phone from the dresser, returning to the bathroom in only a few seconds. 

“Rollins has been trying to call you,” he said, handing her the cell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look. Habit.” She took the phone, nearly dropping it, and set it beside herself on the edge of the tub. “Do you want—” He stopped, head turning toward the sound of a knock on the apartment door. “They can’t be—”

“Liv?” 

“Shit. Rollins is _here_ ,” Barba said, staring at Benson with wide eyes for a moment. 

“Hide in the shower.”

“I can’t, she’ll—” He cut himself off and whirled out of the bathroom, rushing into Benson’s bedroom. He swiped his clothes up off the floor and kicked his overnight bag under the bed, clamping his lips together against a sound as pain shot through his toe. 

“Liv, are you here?” Rollins called, clearly and understandably concerned about the open front door. 

“In here,” Benson called, her voice barely carrying through the apartment. 

Barba hobbled quickly across the bedroom in his underwear, clothes clutched against himself. He was going to duck into the closet but there was no time; he could hear Rollins coming into the apartment, and he would never be able to open the closet, slip inside, and close the door before she got to the bedroom. 

He threw himself behind the bedroom door, flattening himself against the wall and catching his breath. His heart was slamming in his chest and pain was radiating outward from his throbbing toe.

“Are you alright? I tried calling,” Rollins said as she walked past him into the bedroom. He watched her move toward the bathroom, praying she wouldn’t turn and spot him hiding behind the door like a teenage boy hiding from his girlfriend’s parents.

“No,” Benson said, and Rollins disappeared into the bathroom. Barba carefully pulled the door closer to himself so that the angle would hide him from view when she emerged. He stood in the small space, scarcely able to comprehend how he’d found himself in such a position. “I called an ambulance, I just...wanted to make sure the door was open for the paramedics.”

“What’s wrong? I’ll drive you—”

“They should be here any minute.”

Barba was relieved that Benson was still conscious, still talking, but he hated the weakness and breathlessness of her voice, and he hated not being by her side. If she hadn’t asked him to keep his presence a secret, he’d be in there and he didn’t care how much shit he might get from Rollins later. All that mattered was that Benson was alright. 

“Let me help you into the living room,” Rollins said. 

Benson’s voice was so soft that Barba could only hear a few random words: “...nauseous...weak...breath…” It took all of his willpower to remain hidden and wait, to honor her request. Rollins stayed in the bathroom with her until they heard the paramedics at the door, and Barba was grateful that if he couldn’t be with Benson, at least she wasn’t alone. 

He expected someone to find him—to hear his breathing or to see him through the gap—but no one did. He was forced to listen as Benson was taken out of the apartment, and he couldn’t see more than a glimpse of her through the space between the door’s hinges. 

He refused to think about the fact that it could be the last time he ever saw her. He refused to think about anything other than her being alright. He had things to say to her, and there had to be time to say them. 

He needed her to be alright. 

He needed her.

When he was alone in her apartment, he came out of hiding feeling like an intruder. He got dressed quickly and went into the bathroom to look for his phone. He found it hidden beneath a washcloth on the corner of the bathtub, and he slipped it into his pocket even though it was dead. He would have to charge it at the hospital, because he couldn’t sit around her apartment waiting for news.

He fished his bag out from beneath the bed and got his charger, debating for a moment before shoving the bag back under the bed and making sure it wasn’t easily visible. He went into the living room and spotted his shoes—one was beneath the coffee table and the other was beside a pile of Noah’s toys. It was pure luck that Rollins hadn’t spotted them, that he’d carelessly kicked them off as he and Benson made their way to the bedroom instead of leaving them beside the door.

He’d been thinking of nothing but the feeling of her hands roaming frantically over his body, the taste of her kiss, the urgency as they pushed and pulled each other toward her bedroom.

He shook off the memories, filing them away for later, and let himself out of her apartment. He locked the door with his copy of the key and hurried down to get a taxi.

* * *

They wouldn’t give him any information about Benson. He considered lying and saying he was family, but she’d promised she would call him as soon as she could. So he sat in the waiting room, charging his phone and trying not to imagine the worst as the minutes ticked away.

When his phone was fully charged, he unplugged it and left the room to pace the lobby. He eyed the gift shop, wondering if he should buy her a heart-shaped balloon on a stick. 

He turned at the sound of a familiar voice and saw Carisi striding through the front entrance, talking loudly into his phone. Barba felt a surge of panic and glanced around for someplace to hide. Without stopping to think about who else might see him, he darted behind a large, leafy plant, pressing up against the wall and peering between the fronds as Carisi put his phone away and started talking to the woman at the counter.

She wasn’t going to give Carisi any information, either, but Rollins appeared in the hallway and pulled Carisi aside. Barba was too far away to hear what they were saying, and he silently cursed them and himself and the woman at the desk and the universe in general. 

Rollins’s body language and expressions were encouraging, however, and she led Carisi away down the hallway. 

Barba felt an irrational flare of jealousy. He should’ve been the one by Benson’s side, not Rollins. There was also guilt, for _not_ being there. 

He fished out his phone to see if he had any messages yet.

“Can I help you, sir?” a voice asked beside him.

Barba jumped, banging his elbow against the wall and dropping his phone. It landed in the dirt at the base of the plant and he cursed softly as he snatched it up. His face was flaming as he stepped out from behind the leaves, but he schooled his features and pretended the woman couldn’t see the flush of color in his cheeks.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he said, brushing his phone against his leg. His heart skipped when he felt the cell vibrate with an incoming text, and when he saw Benson’s name and message the cool rush of relief was immediate and so strong that it made his hands tremble. 

**I’m ok. Running tests. Let you know when Rollins leaves.**

“Excuse me,” he told the woman who’d caught him hiding behind a plant like a creep, and he made his way back toward the waiting room. Rollins—and now Carisi—should have no reason to look in there, and Barba didn’t have anywhere else to wait unless he wanted to hide in the bathroom for an hour or two. 

Benson was still conscious, and she’d texted him to let him know she was alright. Barba was still anxious, still wanted to be beside her so he could see with his own eyes that she was alright, but he would gladly take the offered reassurance and wait until she needed him.

* * *

Barba was sitting beside Benson’s hospital bed, trying not to stare. She was hooked up to an IV and oxygen, and she looked exhausted. She was being held overnight for observation, and Barba had every intention of sleeping in the chair beside her bed. He didn’t like thinking about how serious the heart attack could’ve been, but he couldn’t stop replaying worst case scenarios in his head. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said quietly, because he was doing a bad job of not staring. 

“I’m holding you to that,” he answered. Before he could say more, his phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket with a frown. It was getting late—past official visiting hours in the hospital. “Your son is FaceTiming me,” he said in surprise. 

“He should be in bed.” He’d been picked up from school by Lucy and then handed off to Rollins for the night. Benson wanted to see him but was afraid her appearance in the hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and machines, would only add to his worry. She’d spoken to him on the phone, assuring him she was fine and would see him the next day.

Barba got up and hurried into the bathroom, closing the door before answering the call. “Hey, buddy,” he said quietly. 

“Uncle Raf,” Noah said as soon as he saw Barba, “Mom had a heart attack and they won’t let me see her.”

Even though it wasn’t new information, Barba’s stomach lurched at the words and he found himself grateful that he already knew. “It’s okay,” he said, the first thing that popped into his head. “She’s doing a lot better, she only needs to stay overnight to make sure—”

“She could die.”

“She’s not going to die,” Barba said. “I just spoke to her, she’s going to be fine, Noah. She’ll just need some rest and some help around home.”

“You need to come back,” Noah said, and Barba’s stomach clenched at the pain and fear in the boy’s voice. 

“It’s not that easy,” Barba hedged, hating himself. 

“I can’t take care of her by myself!” Noah exclaimed, pushing his face close to his phone. “I don’t know how! I’m only a kid!”

“Noah,” Barba started. “It’s going to be alright. Your mom—”

“You’re supposed to be her friend!” Noah accused. “Her _best_ friend.”

Barba opened his mouth, unsure what he was going to say, but his head snapped up as the bathroom door suddenly opened. He stared at Fin like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide, mouth slack. 

“If you don’t come home she’s gonna get a new best friend!” Noah continued.

“It’s complicated,” Barba managed.

Fin regarded him in silence for a few seconds before stepping backward and pulling the door closed. Barba released a breath through pursed lips and looked down at his phone.

“Uncle Raf,” Noah said, and he was crying. That was too much for Barba.

“Okay. Okay, _mijo_ , listen, I’ll see you as soon as I can. I promise.”

Noah perked up. “You’ll come home?”

“Yes, I’ll be there for you and your mom,” Barba agreed. 

“When?”

“Tomorrow,” Barba said. He knew he should discuss it with Benson before making such a promise, but he couldn’t deny a direct plea from the frightened boy. “Now listen, you need to go to bed and try not to worry, alright? Everything’s going to be okay, Noah.” _It has to be_. 

“I love you, Uncle Rafa.”

Barba blinked back the sting of tears. “Love you, too, kid,” he answered gruffly. “Now, off to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

When Barba walked out of the bathroom, he expected to see Fin. Benson was alone in the room, though, and her eyes were closed until she heard his footsteps. Then she looked at him and said, “Sorry about that, he came in and said he needed to use the bathroom before I could say anything to stop him.”

“Is he coming back?”

“No. He was just checking in on his way home. He won’t say anything to anyone.”

Barba walked over and sank into his chair, not bothering to mention that he wasn’t the one who cared if everyone knew about his relationship with Benson. “I told Noah I would help him help you while you’re recuperating. Has he been taking guilt lessons from my mother?”

“What? He knows you’re here?”

“No, he thinks I’m in Iowa. We can let him believe I flew in tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“But you have a ticket back tomorrow. You have a job—”

“You had a heart attack.”

“About that. Doctor says no exertion for a while, so—”

“Oh, we’re never having sex again,” he deadpanned. 

“The hell we’re not, Barba,” she said, and he couldn’t stop the grin from splitting his face. “Maybe you should just take it a little easier on me next time.”

“Me? You were the one who—”

“I remember.”

Barba laughed quietly. “A miracle _I_ didn’t have a heart attack, really.”

“Rafael, you don’t have to change your plans. This freaked us both out, but I’m going to be fine. I’ll take it easy. I promise. And next time you’re here…”

“Liv. I’m willing to pretend or hide or whatever you want, but I’m not leaving. And not only because I promised Noah that I would be here to help.”

“I don’t want you to hide. I’m sorry about today. This isn’t the way I wanted to tell people.”

“We can tell _whomever_ whatever you want, whenever and however you want,” he said, and her lips curved into an affectionate smile. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, I care about you.” He paused. “God, I really wish I’d bought that heart balloon. I could use some symbolism right about now.”

“You want to give me a new heart?” she teased softly.

“I want you to know you have mine.” He grimaced when he saw the tears shining in her eyes. “That sounded a lot cheesier than intended,” he said, leaning forward to lay his hand over hers on the bed. 

“I think it sounded perfect.”

He smiled, searching her face, and said, “We can talk in the morning. You should get some sleep.”

“You can go back to my place if you want. Noah’s with Amanda, the apartment's empty.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, desperately hoping she didn’t.

“No,” she answered after a few moments of silence. “But you can’t sleep in that chair. We can both fit here. I’ll share my oxygen if you want,” she added, smiling as he chuckled. “I think it’s about time we slept together, don’t you?”

He was still laughing when he got up to join her in the bed. 


End file.
